Part one:
I watch my wife walk away to the gaggle of dog owners, leaving me to Buster’s unwanted attention, as the massive dog circles my tiny, trembling body, the size and shape of a terrier. His wet nose nuzzles at what I now realise are my exposed female dog parts, inserted there in place of my human dick by my wife during the Autocloset conversion. I try my best to angle my rear away, but I’m clumsy in my newly quadrupedal form.
“Back off, mutt,” I snap, hoping my human voice might still carry some authority. It only seems to excite him more. He hops and bounces, tongue lolling, his doggie-logic evident - ‘a master I can play with, what fun!’.
Something horrifying starts to swell beneath him, his playful hops bringing him closer to landing on my back, to forcing that animal appendage inside me. What part of petplay did my wife not understand?! I just wanted a few hours of harmless fun, some head pats, not to be mounted, bred like some animal. The thought of my private parts knotted to this canine fills me with terror.
I bolt for the safety of my wife, but Buster’s cuts me off, herding me further into the park. The grass whips past beneath my paws, blurry human figures looming overhead like trees. Buster is right on my heels. He thinks I’m just a female dog playing hard to get.
In a blind panic, I slam into something hard and muscular, going sprawling with a whine. I stare up into the bloody teeth of a dog many times my size. It has no collar. It looks like a stray, thin and feral. The tattered remains of a squirrel drop from its jaws as its lips curled back in a snarl, pacing towards me, readying to sink its teeth into my tiny body and rag me limb from limb. I stare around desperately for a human, but this area of the park is deserted.
As the fetid jaws of death close around me, Buster jumps over me, snapping at the stray. I retreat deeper under his body, inadvertently backing my quivering body against his excited anatomy. In that moment of terror, I don’t care - better Buster’s bitch than death. The other backs away, lingering, while Buster stands guard and I cling close to my protector. There's a soothing musk to his fur.
“Good dog,” I gasp up at Buster, as he leans down give my face reassuring licks. “Blegh,” I splutter as his dripping, slobbering tongue explores the inside of my mouth. “Stop it. I’m alright n-ooOOOHHH!”
The weight of his huge body presses down. I am mounted. "Nnnghh why does this feel so gooood?! Ohhh! B-bad dog,” I whine helplessly as my savior claims me as his reward.